


Finding Out That Your Secret Boyfriend Is A Necromancer

by OTPGirl



Series: Necromancer Curt [1]
Category: Spies Are Forever - Talkfine/Tin Can Brothers
Genre: BUT NOW HE DOES, Curt is a Necromancer, M/M, Necromancer AU, Owen doesn't know, Skeletons, slightly more violent than canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-07-01
Packaged: 2021-03-05 01:42:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25006351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OTPGirl/pseuds/OTPGirl
Summary: Curt and Owen are surrounded, which isn’t really a good situation for them to be in. Neither of the men would really be able to tell you how they got in this situation. They were side by side, backs pressed against the wall. Both had their guns drawn and aimed at the swarm of angry enemy agents that were moving in closer. Even if Curt and Owen both had full magazines, which they do not, they wouldn’t have enough bullets to take out what is easily over 30 enemy agents closing in.In short, they are fucked.
Relationships: Owen Carvour/Agent Curt Mega
Series: Necromancer Curt [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1810453
Comments: 14
Kudos: 62





	Finding Out That Your Secret Boyfriend Is A Necromancer

**Author's Note:**

> This is a story about Owen finding out that Curt is a Necromancer for the AU that I'm working on. 
> 
> Beta read by the amazing IneffableInsomniac.

Curt and Owen are surrounded, which isn’t really a good situation for them to be in. Neither of the men would really be able to tell you how they got in this situation. They were side by side, backs pressed against the wall. Both had their guns drawn and aimed at the swarm of angry enemy agents that were moving in closer. Even if Curt and Owen both had full magazines, which they do not, they wouldn’t have enough bullets to take out what is easily over 30 enemy agents closing in. 

In short, they are fucked. 

“Looks like this is the end of the line, love.” Owen says lowly, eyes locked firmly on the approaching horde, not daring to look over at Curt. He feels the other man shift beside him, causing Owen to drag his gaze away from the enemies and quickly glance at Curt out of the corner of his eye. 

Curt’s jaw is clenched, and his gaze is hard. Owen is expecting to see his hand gripped around his gun so tight that Curt’s knuckles are turning white, just like Owen’s is, but that’s the opposite of what he sees. Curt’s gun is held loosely in his hand, looking like it might fall from his hand at any moment. 

“No.” Curt growls, sounding inhumane for a moment. He takes a deep, steadying breath and lets his eyes slip shut. Owen is about to ask him what he’s doing but is prevented from doing so when the ground beneath his feet starts to rumble. 

It starts as a small, almost unnoticeable shaking but quickly grows so strong that Owen thinks the building is going to come crashing down around them. His hand flies out to grab Curt’s arm in a desperate attempt to keep himself steady. His fingers brush the fabric of Curt’s shirt, but his hand ultimately closes around nothing.

A white, boney hand violently bursts from the concrete, quickly followed by another as a body pulls itself from the ground. Owen’s eyes grow wide as his brain struggles to process what he sees in front of him. 

It’s a skeleton. That just crawled out of the concrete floor of the warehouse they are in between the two spies and their enemies. 

But it didn’t stop there. Another one appeared. And then another. And then some appeared behind the enemy agents, who seemed to be just as startled as Owen. 

All at once, the ground stops shaking, and no one moves for a long time. Owen is holding his breath and he feels confident that no one else in the room is breathing either. He sees a quick movement from Curt but Owen barely registers it, because at that moment, the skeletons attack. 

They move quickly and viciously, tearing the men apart. Owen uses that word quite literally. The skeletons rip skin from the bodies of their victims; blood and other things Owen doesn’t want to think about splatter across the room. Screams of pure agony and gunshots echo around the room, but nothing seems to slow the skeletons down.

As the enemy agents quickly fall, Owen has a startling thought. These skeletons could very easily turn on him and Curt once they’re done. Owen can’t find it within himself to pull his gaze away from the massacre going on in front of him, so he reaches his hand out and swats at Curt’s arm, making contact this time. 

Curt’s arm is cold. The man usually runs a few degrees colder than Owen does, but not this cold. His skin feels as if there is no blood running through his body, and while this definitely worries Owen, it’s not something he’s able to do anything about right now. First, they need to get out of here with their lives.

“Curt. Curt, we need to go. Now.” There is fear biting Owen’s voice as he speaks. Usually, he’s quite good at keeping his emotions hidden in situations like this, but there were no situations like this. This was  _ never  _ something he was expecting. Curt doesn’t respond, and Owen figures he’s just as shocked by the current events as he is. 

With immense difficulty, Owen drags his gaze away from the attacking skeletons to look at Curt. If Owen was surprised by the skeletons, then he didn’t have a word for how he felt when he laid eyes on Curt. 

Curt was standing still, so still it seemed he was rooted in place, and there were cracks around his feet jutting outward toward the skeleton army. His hand was extended directly in front of him, fingers splayed out and tense, bending ever so slightly at the second knuckle;. None of that was the strangest part, though. 

The strangest part was Curt’s eyes. 

Curt’s eyes were dark. Much, much darker than usual. In fact, Owen would swear they were pitch black with an eerie glow to them. Owen has to be dreaming, this… this can’t actually be real. Skeletons did not really pop up from the ground, and Curt’s eyes are not really glowing. He clenches his eyes shut, just for a second, and shakes his head, as if he can shake all of this away. 

But when his eyes open back up everything is the same as it was. There are only one or two enemy agents left, and Owen’s anxiety spikes. He needs to get Curt and himself out of here and he needs to do it soon. 

Owen steps between Curt and the skeletons, all of his instinct screaming at him as he turns his back to the danger. He does his best to shove it to the side as he cups the shorter man’s face with both of his hands and tilts it, as gently as he can in this situation, so that Curt’s blank, glowing eyes are looking at him.

“Curt?” Owen says quietly, his voice shaking slightly. The other man doesn’t react at all. Owen clears his throat and forces himself to speak louder. “Curt, we need to get out of here.”

The last of the screams die out and Owen’s shoulders tense, prepared for an attack at any moment now. Instead, the glow slowly starts to fade from Curt’s eyes and his knees buckle. He falls forward, his entire body weight slamming into Owen’s chest. Without hesitating, Owen wraps his arms around him. 

Owen glances over his shoulder and sees the bodies of enemy agents scattered around the room with white dust floating down, no skeletons to be seen. It’s as if they suddenly disintegrated. He looks back down at Curt, touching his face softly. Curt’s face flops to the side, and Owen almost has a heart attack, the man in his arms looking dead. He shoves two fingers against his neck and lets out a sigh of relief when he finds a pulse. 

Owen somehow manages to get Curt out of the warehouse and back to the crappy motel that their agencies had gotten them a room at. There are two beds in the room, but one of them is untouched. He puts Curt down on the messy bed that neither of them had bothered to make before leaving for the mission. He brushes a few stray locks of hair out of Curt’s face, idly noting that Curt’s temperature was slightly warmer than it had been back in the warehouse, but was still cold, even by Curt standards. 

After making sure that Curt was somewhat comfortable on the bed, Owen steps into the dingy bathroom, leaving the door open in case the other man wakes up. He looks at himself in the mirror for a moment before turning on the sink with a sigh. He splashes some water in his face as he tries to process everything that happened today.

Skeletons appeared from the ground and saved their lives, and Curt’s eyes were glowing. Those two things have to be related; there is no way that they’re not. Right? 

Owen has to wait for Curt to wake up to know for sure, and Owen hates waiting. He considers trying to wake Curt up but ultimately decides against it. He figures that he might as well get his post-mission paperwork done while waiting for Curt to wake up. 

Owen exits the bathroom and pulls the necessary things out of his bag, crossing over to the small table shoved in the corner of the room. He pauses mid-step and looks over at the bed with Curt on it. After a moment of internal debate, Owen searches for a small, hard surface that he could place on his lap. He eventually pulls a hardback copy of the Bible out of a drawer and shrugs. He settles down next to Curt on the bed, sitting with his back against the headboard and fills out his paperwork, using the Bible he found as a table to do so. 

It takes him slightly longer to fill it out than usual, trying to figure out how to describe what happened at the end. Eventually, he just decides to say that he and Curt managed to escape and leaves it at that. He places the paperwork to the side and glances at his watch. It has been forty-five minutes since he started, and Curt hasn’t moved an inch. Owen rests his hand on Curt’s and is glad to feel that his body temperature is almost back to normal for him. 

Owen spends a half-hour cleaning his gun, keeping a close watch on Curt out of the corner of his eye as he does so, and then another half-hour organizing the rest of his equipment. As time slowly but surely crawls closer to the two-hour mark of their return to their little slice of safety, Owen gets more and more nervous. He’s really starting to consider contacting Cynthia and telling her what’s going on when Curt lets out a small groan. 

It takes almost fifteen more minutes for Curt to fully wake up, and once he does, he pushes himself up into a sitting position. He brings a hand up to his forehead and winces slightly. 

“Curt? Darling? Are you alright?” Owen brings a hand up to Curt’s arm and starts rubbing slightly. The other man leans against Owen and lays his head on his shoulder.

“The lights are just hurting my eyes a bit.” Exhaustion is evident in his voice, and Owen feels bad for him. Whatever happened clearly took a lot out of him.

“Do you want me to turn them off?” Curt shakes his head from where it rests against Owen’s shoulder. 

“No, I’ll get used to it. Just give me a few minutes.” Owen slips his arm behind Curt, wrapping it around his shoulders and rubbing his thumb softly up and down the slope of his lover’s neck. The two of them sit in a comfortable silence, Owen not bothering to keep an eye on how long they do.

“My head is killing me. What happened?” Curt mumbles and Owen looks down at him.

“I was kind of hoping you could tell me, love.” He tries to keep his voice light and almost playful. Curt’s brow scrunches in confusion. “What’s the last thing you remember?” 

“I… we were surrounded, right?” Owen hums in approval but doesn’t say anything, wanting to see if Curt could fill in the rest himself. “You said something about it being the end of the line for us and I…” He trails off before tensing up.

Curt quickly pushes away from Owen, moving so fast that he falls off the bed with a thud. He suddenly stands up, eyes wide and fearful as he looks at Owen. Owen moves towards him, wanting to comfort him but Curt just backs away with that heartbreaking look on his face. 

“Oh no. Oh nonononononono! You weren’t supposed to find out. You were never supposed to know.” Curt pulls at his hair as he speaks. Owen slowly stands up to the bed, holding his hands in front of him to show Curt that he means the panicked man no harm.

“Curt, calm down. What was I not supposed to know?” Owen keeps his voice soft and reassuring as he speaks, but the tone doesn’t seem to register with him.

“That I’m dark. That- that I’m a monster.” Tears are welling up in his eyes, and Owen just wants to wipe them away before they can even fall. 

“Curt, you are not a monster.” He can’t understand why Curt would ever think that way about himself. Curt shakes his head and looks away from Owen, as if he can’t stand to look at him.

“You don’t understand. I… I’m filled with dark magic.” Owen doesn’t know how to respond to that. Magic? What on earth was Curt talking about? Curt seems to take his silence as... well, Owen’s not really sure what, but Curt’s reaction isn’t good. 

“I promise, I won’t hurt you. I would never hurt you. I don’t use it to hurt people. Well, I mean other than those guys, but they’re really the exception to the rule, not the example.” Curt is rambling a bit at this point; his breathing is fast and unsteady as tears slide silently down his cheeks, falling onto the dirty carpet. 

Owen moves slowly, closing the space between them. Curt closes his eyes and tenses up, almost as if he’s expecting to be hit, and the action just makes Owen’s heart break all the more. Once he’s standing directly in front of his lover, Owen softly cups the side of his face with his hand. Curt flinches ever so slightly when he makes contact, but doesn’t pull away. 

“Curt, love, I know you would never hurt me. But I need you to take a deep breath for me, can you do that?” Owen idly wipes away Curt’s tears as he speaks, and he feels the shorter man nod slightly. Curt takes a deep, wavering breath. Owen encourages him to take another, and he does. It takes a little bit, but eventually, Curt’s breathing is even despite the tears still falling from his eyes. Owen leads Curt over to the bed and sits him down before kneeling in front of him. 

“I need you to start from the beginning for me. I’m a bit confused at the moment. What happened today?” Owen holds both of Curt’s hands in his own as he looks up at him with trusting eyes. 

“I… I’m a necromancer.” Curt whispers, as if he’s afraid of saying it too loud. His gaze is set firmly on his lap, above their clasped hands. Owen turns this information over in his head. He’s heard the word “necromancer” before, but always used in more of a fictional kind of way. But here was Curt, talking about it as if it were a real thing. 

“Okay. Do you think you could explain that to me a bit? I’m not quite sure I understand what you mean.” He carefully makes sure to keep his voice as far from pressuring as possible. This is clearly something that Curt doesn’t like talking about. Owen wants to be supportive, but first, he needs to understand.

“I can summon the dead. Their spirit or their body and I can make them do what I want. Today, when it looked like we were going to die, I couldn’t just do nothing. I’m sorry.” 

“Curt, look at me.” Owen waits until Curt does so, not rushing him, content to sit there as long as he has to. Curt slowly brings his eyes up to meet Owen’s, his carefully guarded emotions clear in them. “You never have to apologize for saving our lives.” 

Curt studies Owen’s expression, his eyes darting all around the British man’s face. He seems to be searching for something but can’t find it.

“You-... you’re not looking at me like I’m a monster.” His voice is breathy, almost like he can’t quite believe what he’s saying. 

“Because you’re not, Curt. You are the man I love, and nothing is ever going to change that.” Owen promises him and truly means it. He can’t think of a single thing that would make him love the scared man in front of him any less. He can tell that Curt doesn’t really believe him and decides he has to do something to change that. 

“Curt, may I kiss you?” Curt looks at him for a long moment before nodding hesitantly. Owen lets go of Curt’s hands and brings his up to cup either side of Curt’s face. He slowly brings his face up to meet the other man’s and captures his cool lips in a tender, loving kiss. 

Owen pours all his love and admiration into it, desperate to make his lover understand that Owen still loves him, no matter what he may think of himself. It seems to work, because Curt melts into it. His hands move to Owen’s arms and cling to him. Owen pulls back a bit too soon for Curt’s taste and stands up, extending a hand to the man sitting on the bed. 

“Come on, love.” Curt looks at the hand and them up at Owen’s face, so full of love. 

“Where are we going?” There is no fear or trepidation in Curt’s words, just genuine curiosity. 

“Well I don’t know about you, but I could use a shower after that mission. Come join me. Let me wash your hair, let me take care of you.” Curt smiles at Owen’s words and takes the offered hand, letting the taller man pull him off the bed and towards the bathroom. The door closes behind them as they go in. 

Owen still has a million and a half questions, and he’s hopeful Curt is comfortable enough with him to answer them, but that can all wait until later. Right now, Curt needs comfort, and Owen is more than willing to provide it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked this! Come talk to me about Necromancer Curt on Tumblr  
> NecromancerCurtAU


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